


The Dolphin

by Melina



Category: Highlander
Genre: M/M, hl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-12-21
Updated: 1998-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-02 00:42:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melina/pseuds/Melina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're never too old for a new experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dolphin

**Author's Note:**

> This is a section of a longer unfinished story, but I think it stands on its own pretty well.

The sea was calm, the gentle roll of the boat quietly soothing. The soft glow of the moon lit the blue sea with her cool, silvery kiss, and the faint lights of George Town glimmered in the distance. Duncan looked over at his lover and smiled. Methos’ head was leaned against the railing, his eyes closed, a smile on his face. This trip had been a far greater success than he ever could have hoped; Methos was more relaxed than Duncan had ever seen him before. He slid down the long, cushioned bench toward the corner where Methos was ensconced, gently lifting a pair of long legs and settling them across his lap. Methos’ eyes opened as Duncan slipped fingers through soft, dark hair.

"Mmm. That feels nice."

"Good. I want you to feel nice," Duncan smiled, leaning slightly to offer a tender kiss. Methos’ lips were slightly salty. "Are you thirsty? Want some more of the wine?"

"No, I’m perfect. Don’t move."

Duncan could only smile again, perfectly content to sit with his lover’s legs across his lap, listening to the sea’s quiet whisper. He slipped an arm behind Methos’ neck, and it wasn’t long before the angular face buried itself in his shoulder.

_I could stay here all night,_he thought. _This is too peaceful, too perfect._

He must have dozed off, because he started rather suddenly at a strange noise. Methos’ eyes opened too, and they looked at each other a moment before starting to look around the boat.

"What on earth is that?" Methos asked.

Duncan easily found the source of the sound -- something between a whistle and a whine, punctuated by clicks -- and he laughed. "Nothing of the earth. Creatures of the sea." He pointed.

The boat had been spotted by a pod of dolphins, and they had, apparently, decided to pay a visit. "Atlantic bottle-nosed dolphins," Duncan clarified.

Methos appeared unpersuaded.

"Like Flipper," he added helpfully.

A single eyebrow arched in his direction. "Flipper?"

"Flipper, you know, from the TV show..." He might as well be offering the explanation to a Martian, he realized. "Didn’t you watch TV in the sixties?"

A slow grin crossed his lover’s face. "Nope."

Duncan recognized a potential story when he saw one, but this wasn’t the time. He turned to watch the dolphins and couldn’t restrain a broad smile. Sleek, graceful, their bright eyes blinking with intelligence, what mysteries did these beautiful creatures explore in their journeys through the sea?

"They’re very friendly," he said to Methos. "Here..." He moved astern, kneeling just above the dive platform, tracing his hand through the water. Two of the dolphins promptly swam to his side, clicking their enthusiasm for his attention. How could anyone not be thoroughly charmed by these animals?

"Mac!" Methos protested at the sight of his hand in the water.

With the possible exception of his lover, of course.

"Methos, for God’s sake, they’re dolphins, not sharks. Hand me the basket, will you?"

Although he still appeared dubious, his lover complied, handing him the wicker satchel that contained the remains of their picnic dinner. Duncan looked through it for something safe and appropriate and found ample leftover salmon, tossing bits to their new friends. The rest of the pod promptly joined their companions at the platform.

Duncan glanced over at Methos, who had knelt beside him, pleased to see a smile on his lover’s face. It was hard not to catch the exuberance the friendly animals projected. "Here, you do it," he indicated.

He leaned back on his haunches, content to watch the emotions play across Methos’ face as he shared the remainder of their meal with the dolphins. Content to observe the delight in the ageless hazel eyes, content to share the moment as the ancient man enjoyed a new experience for the first time.

The salmon gone, the dolphins started to slip away, exploring the boat and her environs again. A few leapt into the air, allowing the humans to glimpse their power as well as their graceful beauty. One remained behind at the platform, the smallest of the pod, an infant. Duncan watched as Methos lay prone on his stomach, letting his hands dip into the warm water to pet the dolphin, tentatively at first, and then to rub the top of its head when his attentions garnered vocal approval. He listened as his lover murmured quiet words to the animal in a language he didn’t understand. Methos quietly laughed aloud as he leaned farther over the platform’s edge, letting the dolphin rub its nose against the side of his head.

Duncan looked on with something akin to awe as the baby dolphin and the ancient Immortal found common ground. Did they know how much they had in common with each other? The fabled sea mammal and the oldest of his race, both creatures of legend and myth in their respective worlds, both believed by many to carry magical powers. Like his lover, the dolphin was a mystery, inscrutable behind his ageless eyes, carrying the secrets of his race and the ever-changing world in which he lived.

He and Methos had known each other less than four years, the merest blink of an eye in an average Immortal’s lifetime, much less one of Methos’ tenure. How much longer did he have to witness, to learn, to observe before he came to truly know this man? Was it even possible -- would his lover ever be less of a mystery to him than the dolphin was at this moment?

Perhaps. For now he could only watch and feel the emotions swelling his heart. To Duncan, the quiet, simple communion of these two creatures was one of the most profoundly moving things he had seen in his entire life.

The dolphin clicked affectionately a few more times before swimming away to rejoin his companions.

"What’s wrong? You look so serious." Methos’ brows were slightly furrowed.

Duncan shook his head and smiled, shaking off the reverie. "Nothing."

"You sure?" Methos rolled over onto his back and sat up, sliding closer to Duncan.

He nodded, slipping a hand behind his lover’s head and pulling him forward. Their lips brushed lightly, offering and receiving tenderness so exquisite that it was almost unbearable. Duncan leaned forward until their foreheads touched, reaching out to entangle long fingers in his own. He wanted to tell Methos how beautiful he looked with the dolphin and how much simply being here together meant to him, but words wouldn’t come, not words that could truly express what he felt. Words weren’t enough to describe the simple joy of watching him nuzzle a dolphin -- how could words even begin to convey the passion he felt in his lover’s arms, or how the aching, empty place in his heart had been filled with Methos’ presence?

Duncan leaned back slightly, looking into Methos’ clear eyes, dilated in the dim light and rapidly warming with passion. Their lips met with more heat this time, tenderness somewhat sacrificed for passion, but Duncan wasn’t about to complain. His hands ached for touch, and he pulled Methos onto his lap, slipping his hands underneath the lightweight sweatshirt to trace the taut, well-defined muscles of his lover’s back. His lover reciprocated, and Duncan couldn’t help but shudder with pleasure under Methos’ firm, sensual touch.

Shirts were removed, sandals kicked off. They shifted just enough to shed their bathing suits, and Duncan couldn’t help but stare at Methos’ body as it was revealed in the silver moonlight. He reached over to trace fingers down his lover’s chest and was rewarded by a sly smile that pierced his heart with its warmth and intensity. Unable to wait any longer, Duncan shifted Methos’ body onto his lap once again. Long runner’s legs parted and wrapped tightly around his back. Both men gasped as their bodies against each other, and their kissing began again in earnest. Duncan soon began to feel as if he were tumbling down a hill, so quickly did he become lost in the feel of Methos’ skin under his hands, the taste of his hot, sweet mouth, the sound of his quiet moans of passion.

Their erect cocks pressed together, but became almost superfluous as they made love to each other with every inch of skin, muscle and bone. But Duncan could no longer separate the physical from the profound emotional impact of Methos’ mouth and body against his, no more than he could deny his own existence. He couldn’t deny that it felt like so much more than two bodies coming together...minds and spirits met, hopelessly intertwined and entangled until he was lost, no longer himself but part of a far greater whole.

Fingers tangled together and reached down to gently increase the friction against their aroused organs, but it didn’t take much to send either of them over the edge. They moaned into each other’s mouths as they came, warm fluid mingling in their joined palms.

Duncan collapsed against Methos, dropping his head onto an angular shoulder. Warm, slightly damp hands slid around his back to embrace him tightly. Duncan was at a loss to explain why he felt so overwhelmed, unable to identify the reason that tears threatened and his breath caught in a choked gasp.

Methos heard his breath catch, and gently pulled Duncan far enough away to look into his eyes, his own narrowing with concern. "Duncan?"

He blinked away the tears and shook his head, embarrassed by the display of emotion. "Don’t ask me to explain, Methos...I don’t know why... I can’t." But why couldn’t he articulate what he felt, why was he unable to tell Methos how much he meant to Duncan, how profoundly he affected him? The man to whom he was closest touched a place deep inside his soul, yet he was unable to convey his feelings to Methos any more successfully than he could question the dolphins about the mysteries they carried.

Methos pulled him close and kissed him softly. "It’s okay."

Duncan let himself fall again, this time into the comfort of his lover’s embrace. He let Methos lead him back to the cushioned bench, allowing himself to enjoy the feeling of strong arms enclosing his chest. Duncan somehow knew that it really was okay, that Methos somehow knew what he wanted to say. Perhaps they were communicating, like their clicking and whistling visitors, in a language beyond words.

Even so, he still wanted to put his feelings into words, to tell Methos how much he meant to Duncan. Someday, he thought as he thought as he dozed off in his lover’s arms, he would find the right words.

After all, they had have plenty of time.

~ end ~

_Originally posted December 21, 1998._


End file.
